


Crossed Looks

by TheDarkFlygon



Category: Original Work, PDV
Genre: F/F, F/M, French, French Characters, French names, High School, SO MUCH FRENCH, also they travel in England at some point, because i like to screw biologic logic, fueled with t.A.T.u. songs, loads of French, magical lesbian pregnancy also, random tags really, there is the otp in it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Translated from French, sorry for any grammar mistakes not removed)<br/>A story told with 5 different perspectives/points of view (Justine, Juliette, Sarah, Luc and Clémence F.). Follow them as thhey get over such things as school problems, job problems, one-sided love, homosexuality, secrets kept hidden, things biologically impossible and a lot of other stuff I haven't written yet.</p><p>(also i'm totally not listening to t.A.T.u. when writing it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Justine's POV - Strange as shit History mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this new PDV story, taking you from ground zero by introducing everybody in weird ways because I'm a writing hipster apparently.  
> We start Crossed Looks with Justine's point of view, it will change next chapter for diversity.  
> I like to state my character's sexuality in their first chapter under their view, I will state hers.  
> 

It was my first History-Geography lesson of the year. I was just entering 12th Grade and my friends were still making fun of me because I wasn't in the same section as them. However, Alexandre and Clémence, two friends I met the previous school year, were in the same class as me.  
We were supposed to have Mrs. Blossart, my 11th Grade homeroom teacher. It's a kind woman and a good teacher, so I was happy to have her another year, especially because the two others teachers we could have got weren't reassuring me on my future as a History-Geo teacher...

It was a Wednesday. We had lesson in the 208 room, but suddenly, Pronote decided to put us in the 204 room for the rest of the year. "BLOSSART Fl" disappeared from our screens and we got "maintained lesson" for all of them. For two hours, I was perplex. I wasn't capable to understand what the hell was happening with our sloppy schedules.  
When we arrived in the room, Alexandre and I were trying to understand the why and the how since Clémence was busy flirting with her (unbearable) boyfriend. We thought it was a computer quack and that we both looked stupid with our class until a monitor opened the classroom's door and made us enter.

We were confused, sat at our tables like dumbasses. We were looking at each other, the same question burning our brains, we were searching the answer. Neither of us was understanding the situation. It was only the first History-Geo lesson of the year, and we were already teacherless, sinking us in confusion.  
The class wasn't as disturbed as me. The guys were fooling around, making jokes about their mother, cigarettes, drug and anything else. The girls were talking about the last episode of their favorite soap opera, the latest tele reality shows. I wasn't interested in those things. I'm qualified as an outsider. I'm qualified as a tomboy. I define myself as "deviant", like Mrs. Merouli would say when defining me.

Five minutes later, we all heard the sound of heels in the corridor. Usually, we never pay attention to such a detail, but this time, we were so bored we all turned around to the source of the sound. Even Clémence did so, despite the fact she was on her phone as usual. The class got quiet, surprised to see someone finally enter the room: a young woman, in the end of her twenties, with long chestnut hair flowing in her back, with big dark brown eyes surmounted with pale purple eye shadow and circled with mascara. She was wearing a black suit and a bright fuchsia pink.  
Without realizing what I was doing, I got up and yelled in the room: "Mrs... Mrs. Jonquille?!” I fell back on my chair the moment she turned to me. I was smiling like there was no tomorrow if not more and my heart was beating so much it could have broken my rib cage. I just wanted this moment to be eternal.

Mrs. Jonquille had been my History-Geo teacher when I was in 10th Grade. She was still inexperimented and, sometimes, what she was doing made no sense; but she was really understanding and above all passionate with her job. She never hesitated to take on her own health just to teach us except when she was taken by something else, like outings or, like Judith told me last year, when she had been confined to her bed by a pneumonia.  
I was in love with that woman. To be honest, I still am, even if it makes me cry sometimes. There had been some days where I wanted to forget my feelings and that love existed, but I hung up to this young woman. No, not the teacher, the woman, but you will see what I'm meaning later.

She got behind the desk and put her bags on it. From the bigger, that she had hanging from her right shoulder, she got a pink folder out on which was written in black "TL2". Clémence and I looked at each other, smiling. Alexandre looked at us, as confused as us. She got out from the black little bag she had stuck in her left armpit her pencil case of the same color.  
She sat up on the desk, her legs crossed. She glimpsed at the class then looked at her student list that I was seeing thanks to the photos taken the previous year. I managed to get a glimpse at my own face. I definitely always put up dumb faces when they take those photos.

She started to call us. Alexandre and Clémence were on the list. It was when she saw me, that she smiled at me, that she frowned her eyebrows and stayed dubitative all the appeal long. She closed her folder and looked at us again, calling us with her doubtful voice: "So, you are the TL2 class?"  
We all looked at each other, quiet, almost voiceless. We then all turned to her then I said:  
"Err, Mistress, we are the Terminale ES 1 class".

Her eyes grew wide right after my words got to her mind, blinking rapidly, showing her astonish on her expressive face. She wasn't understanding what was happening and why the 1L2 class wasn't in front of her. Didn't she read the name of the class on the top of the paper sheet? Anyway, Clémence was laughing like crazy at my left, amused by what just happened.  
"The... The TES1 class you said? But... I was told that I had the TL2 class... Sorry, I don't understand anything anymore... I have nothing for you..." She said, embarrassed and confused, her cheeks slightly reddened by her shame. At least, she understood why I was there even if she knew I wasn't in L section.

This was our first meeting with our teacher of the year. The class made fun a lot of her with those events. At the end of the lesson, I asked her how she could not have not known she had the TES1 and not the TL2 class. She then explained that she accepted to take the class left behind by one of the school's teacher who went from 120% to 80%, leaving a class teacher-less for his subject. This class was, at the basis, the TL2 one. The thing is that Mrs. Blossart took it to decrease the damages. The problem is that Mrs. Jonquille had already proposed herself and that Mrs. Blossart had to choose a class to not to take between the 1ES2 and TES1 ones. She gave up the latter, us, and so we were given to her workmate. What I couldn't understand from the teacher's explanations has been lost in translation. She looked like she had understood even less than me the situation.

She apologized for not having made her lessons correctly for us. She preferred including literature references and committed works such as Résistance poems from Aragon than speaking about the economic side of the German Occupation during World War II. No matter how many times people repeat that the programs are the same in L section and in ES section, there will always be teachers who will stick up to make differences. Well, with Mrs. Jonquille, it's from a good will: Mrs. Crayemant, TL1's Literature teacher this year, must have heavily insisted in the teachers' room that Mrs. Debrocq and Mrs. Jonquille speaks about books in their lessons.  
To see what I thought, she made me read the beginning the beginning of the lesson she wanted to make us the day after. First page out of three and already a literature reference dissected. On the bad side, I don't know where she got her analyses, but if she made them, I understand why she took the S path, because even I am better at this, and I was sleeping last year in French lessons.

Luckily, the confusion caused by this first lesson vanished away the following week. She didn't put any literature deep-analyzed reference in her educational speech. She was her usual self, sat legs crossed on the right corner of the room's desk. Her arms were almost landing in my face because of her wide movements but I didn't give a single damn! I found again my 10th Grade lessons, with my favorite teacher of all times, in my favorite subject, what could I asked more? I was happy each time I was entering the room, I was smiling when seeing the teacher even though I was preparing myself to write for one hour long. But what pleasure to write what Mrs. Jonquille would say...  
Until I noticed this strange, very strange detail.

When reading the different classrooms' schedules where she was having class, I counted twenty-five hours per week, taking in count the hours who are scheduled only one week for two. I also counted the Literature-Society hours in the P5 classroom because I have Latin in that room.  
I knew that, the previous year, she was working at 120% and was assuring twenty hours of lesson per week, but there, if I'm not mistaken, it was making 150% this time. I was wondering if it was even possible to do so, but I think it's just maybe because nobody is nuts enough to do so. Well, except Mrs. Jonquille obviously, but Mrs. Jonquille is like nobody.

That was when I started to notice some little things in History-Geo lessons. We were still in September and the teacher already had dark rings under her eyes, which was a thing that was not getting back to my mind from my 10th or 11th Grade years. Soon enough, I noticed that she was rather pale during a little week because her blush was much more visible while staying the same. She had, sometimes, during the lessons moments of weakness where her eyelids would close of their own while she was trying to stay as awake as she could.  
I managed to link her fatigue to her twenty-five hours. Mrs. Jonquille looks like a rather weak person physically by seeing her build who is close of mine but more little (I'm a half-head taller than her). To me, it seems like she was overworking herself, but the question stayed the same: why?

I still haven't find the answer yet. And if someone could give it to me for my birthday next month, I would be the happiest girl in the world, because I don't want to see her killing herself off slowly like she almost did two years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes:  
> -the S, ES and L sections are sections of the Baccalauréat, the exam taken on by students at the end of high school. S is Sciences, ES is Economics and Sociology and L is Literature, to make it shorts (more infos on Wikipedia anyway)  
> -"Pronote" is the most common school program where students can see their schedules and grades. It's on this program teachers also make their student calls and put the grades/marks they gave to their students. The program is really popular among students, believe me, I can't without my little Pronote by my side.  
> -The "TES1" and "TL2" classes are 12th Grade classes, also called "Terminale" in France (after Première and Seconde, but I translated them to 11th and 10th Grades to make it easier)  
> -In France, teachers have 18 hours of class per wekk (if only certified with the CAPES, which is the case of Mrs. Blossart and Mrs. Jonquille) if they work at 100%. They can choose to work less (80%) or more (120%), so have 15 or 20 hours per week instead). The 150% flavor is fictional tho, but PDV isn't enterely real life, you will see that in Chapter 3.


	2. Juliette's PoV - Once Again...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally justifying this F/F category haha  
> Also this chapter was totally not brought to you by the fact I can't stop listening to t.A.T.u. non-stop  
> 

Each and every evening, instead of heading home after work, I go to the hospital. It's a place I dislike by default. I spent so much time there younger to the point that I feel uneasy when I see one, when I heard about one, defaults like qualities. This place is both the incarnation of my problems and of their solutions. It's also the case for her, especially currently. She and I understood.  
Ah, that damn hospital is making me sick! I have other things to do than adventuring in my memories, but I do this for her...

Each and every evening, I knock at bedroom 142. Each evening, I wait for her "yes" and I enter the room. Each evening, I put this chair by the bed. And, each evening, I speak with her. It's the same cycle repeating itself since summer holidays now.  
Each day, she explains to me that she's feeling better, that her bones reinforce once again after this accident. We are in October 2015, she and I finally see the end of the tunnel. Soon, she will get out, and we will both go to work the morning and leave the evening...

Sometimes, I'm asked about how she's going. I didn't think that so many people were worried for her, moreover since she was very discreet last year, despite the fact that her voice is powerful. Well, she was speaking less loudly because she was wanting to disappear after she shattered a lot of her legs' bones.  
"How's Sarah?" is a question I'm asked less and less as time passes. The work is intensifying for us to be honest. Some, like Luc or Florence, are planning great projects. I would have liked too, but with Sarah in hospital, I don't have the motivation to do so. I don't even know what I would do actually. I haven't got much time to think about it anyway.

Each and every evening, I leave when the hospital closes to the visitors. I get in my car, heading towards home, at twenty minutes of road. And the road tires me. Dark gray strips decorated with white lines, dotted or not I don't even know anymore. I need to be careful about radars and dumbasses who can't drive.  
Currently, we get closer to the Toussaint holidays. I get tired, I feel it and it worries me even more than it is much more quickly that previous years. I'm still young, much to my regret, and I have a lot to live... But I already have some habits.

When I get home, it's like every evening: I go in the office, I empty my bag of its folders, I fill it once again with what I need for the following day. I never forget morning and afternoon snacks without which I would faint without any warning. My hypoglycemia will be the loss of me, same goes for my tiredness...  
Each and every evening, I get my sheets out. I read again, I add some details, I search on my computer what I could add, I cross out what I find useless, I want to be concise and in the same time to detail. I have two boxes of red pens and one of black and blue ones because of how much I write each evening.  
Sometimes, I get them out. My great foes, the ones who tire me maybe even more than the road. The papers. Their papers. Actually, it's my fault if I have those, because if I didn't ask them to do these, I wouldn't have to correct them. But that's how the system is like the workmates would say. Me, I'm wondering if a change of way wouldn't be made while I'm living, because everything changes, in our job...

Facing my desk is Sarah's one. It's dusty because I only use mine. I don't clean often even if I'm born pristine. Sometimes, Luc tells me that I'm so such a clean freak because of how much I clean and that I tend to clean "nothing and anything".  
In the library, next to my sweetheart's desk, the books are dusty too. They are pieces of work that I barely read as a kid, in middle and high school. They are Balzac, Flaubert, Zola, Marivaux, Voltaire and other Rousseau books. She helped me to do my literary analyses, but our work is vain: I don't even have an L 12th Grade class this year...

Florence gave me her signature class: her ES 12th Grade one. She often ask me what is up with them. She had students I have this year like she has students I had last year. And there is one I pass to each other like a ball: Justine Lhotar from the TES1 class.  
This girl... I have the feeling that I will never get rid of her. I like her, she's nice, good student and is quick at repartee, which I admire. Moreover, we have the same sense of humor. But I understand that I will continue to hear about her, to see her, to feel her presence elsewhere even when she will leave the school...

My first lesson to her class was a disaster. I arrived late because of administrative formalities, my lesson had been made for L section and not ES section, I called them the "TL2" and they all made fun of me, until someday... Until Justine got up and defended me in front of her whole class. I was with Florence and Meriem meanwhile, just looking at what was happening.  
I never had seen her like that. She was determined, she was standing straight, an audacious spark in her eyes. Her voice was resounding with power and was clutching her fists to the point her nails could pierce her skin. She was... Impressive. I was completely astonished to the point I was barely knowing her anymore.

Her classmates were making fun of her too at the beginning because she said that I was a very good teacher and all kinds of ameliorative words. They didn't believe her, but she started to talk about her 10th Grade year and that what happened to "us" during that year. They all understood that I was a worker that doesn't care much about herself.  
They were as surprised as me because of her words. They all looked at each other, their eyes wide open and their eyebrows raised to the top of their forehead. Florence and Meriem were both looking at me, slightly smiling. I think I understood their message: they want me to understand that the Justine I knew two years ago changed again while I was not seeing her much. I hadn't noticed the changes that she had went through yet.

It's true that I also changed in one year, now that I wonder about that. Since last September, I moved in closer to the school with my girlfriend that I also met the previous year, who broke quite a lot of bones in a bad fall last summer and now I find myself working even more so I can pay the hospitalization fees... Luckily, she sees the end of the tunnel, so I will soon only have to pay a little splint with my teacher salary.  
At the beginning, I was thinking that Justine was one of those students that only wanted one thing: to smooch teachers to have better marks without working more for it. The fact is that I'm impossible to corrupt, she noticed this quickly. Though, her behavior didn't change at all. She got... Attached to me, to say the very least, as Sarah would say.

I was feeling kind of guilty for being in a relationship while I knew very well that this young girl was in love with me. Finally, she saw what she shouldn't have some evening while she was thinking we were keeping Marianne, her friend we had in Literature-Society, that she was waiting for (the said Marianne was missing this day, she didn't know that).  
That evening, Sarah and I were kissing without noticing that we left the door open. We were in the P5 classroom, a Tuesday evening after the end of 5PM lessons, in the premade building where nobody even goes in at such an hour, not even janitors. It's when we broke the kiss to breathe that we heard clapping from behind us, from the door.

When I turned back, being the one who had the wall where the door was in the back, I saw this former student clapping without saying anything, a sad smile on her face, her blue eyes clearly flooded with tears. I saw that she was holding back from crying but I got closer to her. I looked at her while her eyes were sinking rather painfully in mines. It was almost as if she was wanting to tell me something with her eyes.  
"Congratulations" she said while rubbing her eyes, her hands and eye corners watered. Her little smile faded slowly, turning into a slightly open mouth. She was really holding back from breaking in tears but I didn't know why she was clapping her hands if she wanted to cry. I heard Sarah telling me to let her go. I didn't listen to her.  
Justine moved her legs quickly, getting ready to flee. Before she could really escape, I took her arm quite tightly so she couldn't escape from me. I wasn't thinking I hurt her physically until I saw the reddened shape of my hand on her naked arm.

"Justine, I see that what you just saw don't please you so much, but why the hell are you applauding then?" I asked her aggressively, embarrassed but worried and disturbed by this sentimental paradox.  
"Love's contradiction Mistress... I'm sad because I'm heartbroken, but I'm also happy, because it's much known, we are happy when we see the loved one happy... No?" she calmly replied.

I never knew how to answer back. This year, when I found out she was still loving me so much, I didn't know how to respond yet again. I still have the feeling that I owe her a bit of affection even though I hate to do such a thing because of purely professional reasons, but I need to admit that she did a lot for me during this year's beginning.  
There hasn't only be her brave speech to her class in September. She noticed I wasn't feeling well in my head. Sometimes, when I had a sad face, she was giving me a little smile. In those times, each time someone wanted to ask me something delicate or complex, she would say she would ask for them, because she would know how to say it. It's a good psychologist, it's pretty sad that I became her role model, because I'm far from being an example...

Justine wants to be a History-Geo teacher too. Unlike me, who didn't know much what I wanted to do with my life, she has this in mind since middle school, according to what I understood. Florence also asked me, last year, a lot of questions about her because she is a special student to apprehend. With her notes, I thought she was confident, but I found it with Florence that she wasn't trusting herself a lot and was doubting about herself each time she had a notes under her above ones... The girl has a lot of pressure to bear on her shoulders I guess.  
With time passing, I saw a bit of me in her. When I was around her age, I didn't trust in myself. My parents were oppressing me for being the bad one from the little pretty family. My sister pregnant at nineteen years old during her college term, ok, but me having a fourteen, I was scolded. Well, I was when I even dared to tell my real notes, the weekend, when I was coming back from the internship.

Justine once told me, after a lesson on a Wednesday morning, that it was thanks to me that she was keeping hope and the will to continue on her project, to trust in her. She told me she owed me this something: be effective in my subject to "not disappoint me". Never have I ever thought I would influence a student so much in a school I'm not a big part of.  
It's when I see her, smiling and yelling with her friends in the corridors in front of the classrooms, that I realize how much I've grown as a person since high school. I hope she will succeed more than me.

It's for people like her that I can't let myself weaken and relax. I'm sorry, very sorry, Sarah, but it's not tomorrow that I will go on vacation for sickness. I have engagements other than personal ones to honor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes:  
> -At some point Juliette lists French writers commonly studied in French school (because in France we just study French books duh). They are all novel writers except for Marivaux who wrote theater plays. I studied Flaubert, Zola and Voltaire (Madame Bovary/L'Education sentimentale ; L'Assommoir/L'Oeuvre and Candide) in high school.  
> -"papers" mostly design tests taken on by students in this fic. Just so you know. It's just that "copie" is literally translated to "paper" in English.
> 
> Side notes:  
> -Yes, Justine and Juliette had a hard time as student/teacher the year prior to Crossed Looks, but I never made any story for this period about this so you could have never guessed. So I tell you so.


	3. Sarah's PoV - Coming Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EVEN MORE FRENCH NAMES FOR YOU FELLOW READERS  
> (imsolameatchapternaming//shots)
> 
> Sarah is totally not a literature girl. Not at all. She's also not a French teacher. Not at all.  
> And pay attention to the necklace Juliette gave her. It will be important for later.

Ah... When I see her leave the teachers' room twenty to thirty minutes before me just to be alone for a moment, I'm wondering if she doesn't have another reason to do so. Juliette is my girlfriend, yet I don't know half of her secrets. This woman has way too much untellable secrets, I think, to the point that anybody except her wouldn't know only one of two of them.  
I almost know nothing about her past. I just know that she systematically refuses to speak about her family. I don't even know if I have stepbrothers, stepsisters, if she has nephews or nieces, who my step-parents are supposed to be.

"Sarah, I can't see why I should tell you about my family. I mean, it's true, we don't need them we live very well on our own... Don't we...?" she whispers in front of the mirror, searching nonstop how to explain me her family background. It's always for nothing: she gives up after each try.

Our couple's situation seems good, if not very good, seen from the outside. Our workmates tend to congratulate us for each month anniversary of our couple because we are two female teachers in the same high school. Our romance is idealized by the colleagues, because honestly, for what it is, it's not the romantic Eldorado they think our couple is.  
In the inside, it's tensions and worries. I'm worried for her all the time. Since my hospitalization, which I got out since, her assiduousness only raises more and more. Not paid back fees cost us a lot because we both only are certified teachers, me at 80% since I had this bad fall, 150% for her, hoping to remedy to my weakened paychecks.

I know that Juliette is a fantastic girl. She is kind, goo, comprehensive, dynamic, clever, hardworking... Too much hardworking actually. I thought she would recover during the Toussaint holidays, but she preferred to focus on me getting out of hospital, perfecting her lessons, correct her papers, revise her stuff to be sure she wasn't telling bullshit.  
I have the feeling to be less important than her work so often because of this excessive assiduousness which I'm the main cause of... If she works so much, I know it's for me, so we can leave while I try to look after myself after my bones reached a critical state.

She gave me this adorable necklace the other day to apologize to not having told me when she came back home late because she was replacing a sick workmate in the resource center. It's a horizontal moon crescent made of some gem I don't know of, but I find it really pretty. Anyway, pretty enough in order for me to be surprised that Juliette would give it to me, since she's always rather restrained when it comes to jewelry (well, if she had rings on her ring fingers, it was because she wanted workmates to believe she was engaged while she was still a virgin).

Since I got out of the hospital, I discover every day a new thing about her. When she finishes work late, I excavate her desk. Not for long, indeed, because I need to make up for all the lessons I made my students missed (my substitute being quicker and less exhaustive than me), and if I spend my time searching her side of the office room, she will notice that I search to discover what she refuses to show me, unlike what she made me promise when we got together.  
But this room is a goldmine of her little secrets. Along with her tons of History books in her shelves, there were her old copybooks from school time. They are pretty neat because she was remedying erasures, but some pages had been wet on some spots... But only her 12th Grade copybooks. It's strange, I should ask Clémence about this, she must know, she is her best friend since middle school.  
What disturbed me the most were her high school reports. In middle school, she was an excellent student and her teachers had close to nothing to say about her, except that she was a loner and an individualist one. I was seeing her much in that, she always had this strong individual consciousness. But, in high school, it's another kind of observations I read about her, getting worse and worse each year passing. In 12th Grade, her teachers were qualifying her as "frenzied", were asking her parents to pay attention to the psychological health of their daughter and that kind of messages. It made my heart sank.

Raphaëlle comes over sometimes during the weekend. I talk with her about Juliette often enough for her to notice I had my thoughts "devoured by worries" according her wise words.  
Raphaëlle, whose name is Ralousse, is a wise woman. She has is the same age as me, which means twenty-eight years old. Yet, she's as wise as my uncle. When I tell her about my problems, she understand them faster than me, and I have no idea of how she do that. This woman is an entire mystery on her own. Well, not as mysterious as Juliette, but mysterious nonetheless.

When I was in hospital, I had the time to think about the good ol' time when we met. She was just out of college, I still needed to take on my external certification. Apparently in her university it was quicker. She was visiting me at least once each week to inform me about what was going out at school, events Juliette was strangely never talking about... It was like she was trying to forget she was a teacher when she was out of work.

Raphaëlle helped me last week at searching Juliette's desk when she was out at Clémence's, kind of forced by her girlfriend (me). Not only because I planned some speleological excavation of her lair with Raphaëlle, but also because she deserved to rest a bit, especially since I was out from hospital for a good week.  
She found a folder hidden under what I was thinking was a pile of uninteresting papers to me like duplicated notes from her former schools such as the Vauban high school. I haven't had time to read it yet due to a lack of time to study it calmly without having to deal with Juliette nearby. Luckily, we are Saturday morning and she had to go to school to watch the test she planned for her 12th Graders, so I don't have a chance to be spotted. Anyway, if I find something really shocking, I will make sure to tell her so.

This folder is as heavy that it is thick. A lot of paper corners are trying to get out from it and it doesn't reassure me in the slightest, knowing she hides so much from me. Ah, darling, what are all those things you want me to not know them so much to the point you hide it in your mess...?  
I just opened the folder and I already face an administrative paper from the Vauban high school where she was two years ago. Well, I don't give a damn honestly, it doesn't interest me... Oh wait. It is not any random message from the administration or a paper to organize an outing of any sort. It is a nominative message written to "Mrs. JONQUILLE Juliette".  
It is a message from the headmaster of the school. She did tell me that he was the kind to develops introductions but I wasn't thinking it would be that one page over three was only a summary of the teacher's 2013-2014 school year. But what follows seems interesting...

W-wait... He... He tells her to pay attention to herself and that she should take a week of vacation?! Never in my entire life I saw one of my workmates being recommended by the administrative superior, the one who can make us go to another school for a year to the other if it is justified to the superior regional delegation or if he pays a bribe, but it's everywhere the same.  
Clémence didn't tell me pretty things about this school year concerning Juliette. At the beginning, I was thinking she was exaggerating the facts, because she's a rather eccentric person, but I should have believed her, being the gynecologist of the family (not mine, but Juliette's) and her best friend, she knows her well  
This headmaster details all the reasons why he thinks she should look after herself for once. Those reasons include her apparent tiredness, the extra work she was giving to herself according to her workmates and mainly her health that was quickly degrading. To prove this last point, he enumerate a list signaled as non-exhaustive of "symptoms", like her stagger-like walk, her cold and almost shine-less glance, her red eyes, mood switches who appeared as time passed and some others I don't even want to read... I understand why Clémence worries so much for her best friend now.

I didn't know Juliette when she was working at Vauban. Actually, we only met last year because we were forming the Literature-Society duet we still are today. I wasn't liking her at all at the beginning of last school year.  
I didn't really know why I wasn't liking that one. Something wasn't right with her but I couldn't say what. Raphaëlle always explained to me that it was because my symbol and Juliette's one, the Diamond and the Shell, even if their values weren't conflicting with each other, the fact that mine was representing honesty and that she was spending her time lying caused my symbol to make me not consider her well and "letting my guard down". The symbols are complicated to deal with and I barely know what mine really does.

My symbol, the main thing it did, it was giving me atrocious fevers when I was lying about my feelings for Juliette. It's such a paradox, shouldn't have it been satisfied that I was pushing back the one who was hiding herself all the time? It's pretty funny to see how she hiding her pearl under her shell... Not making any dirty-minded jokes, of course. In that case, I saw that pearl.  
It reminds me that our couple life can be summarized as the goodnight kiss before bed... Of course, I don't want her to make her down me in flowers and to make love to me every day (I don't have enough libido to do so anyway), but nonetheless... The problem is that we both are lone wolves, individualist people. So, we are a couple, but not that much.

I don't blame Juliette for anything. I know what is to be a workaholic, being one myself. It's not love that will render me blind, I know, I'm not naive, it's not my first try (I was a virgin before being with her though).  
Only time will tell us what will happen to her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes:  
> -The Toussaint holidays are holidays in France that are during the 2 last weeks of October, but they last longer than that because the 1st November, Toussaint day, is a holiday.  
> -"Vauban" is a high school in CL. A ton of places are called "Vauban" in France for some reason, because Sébastien Vauban was King Louis XIV's architect and he built some of the strongest fortresses of his time. There is also quite a few Vauban schools in France.  
> -The "resource center" was inspired by my own high school who inspired Rimbaud high school. It is some place where students can be helped by willing teachers (well, if there is any, because not a lot of them do). I went there once for help for French essays. It was pretty rad.


	4. Luc's PoV - Reminding Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LETTUCE MAN IS HERE!  
> I wanted to include this dude for so long now! He has quite a... Special relationship with Juliette, but it's still a secret, shhh.  
> I hope you will enjoy Juliette's XX birthday!

I took contact with Caroline Lotarre for the first time years ago, probably around 2010. Since then, we often phone each other. I even went to see her when she had her kids. Actually, she was convinced I had been sent by her sister who "didn't have the time to come".  
It was early in November when she called me to tell me about her younger sister's birthday. As her older sister, Mathilde Coulomb, didn't want to do anything for her youngest sister, she asked me if I was willing to organize with her this birthday. I obviously accepted.

I then thought it would be good to include Sarah Leeht in all of this. After all, we were celebrating her girlfriend's birthday, she had a role to play in it. I was astonished when she told me she had no idea that her birthday was in November. I was finding this weird before remembering that she had never been really open on her age or stuff related to it. Actually, she only told me about it because I insisted that she should do so.  
I wasn't surprised that she was keeping this secret to me, since I was only a random stranger at the beginning, but to her girlfriend, she's going a bit too far I think... I understand that she isn't exactly comfortable with her age because of what she lived before, but it doesn't excuse the fact that it's her girlfriend we are talking about and that she will never make fun of her or bully her for that!

Since Caroline knew her better than both of us, because she kind of saw her birth in some way, it would only be fitting that she would be the one most disposed to know what should be good to do. She never really told me about which activities she enjoyed to do, I barely knew what she disliked eating because she was never saying anything during dinner, when she was coming back from college and not staying late to study in the library of course.  
Sarah had a very farfetched idea: basing the celebration on lessons. Caroline and I stared at her, surprised and finding this to be such a nasty idea. Nonetheless, I understood why she wanted to do this: her girlfriend is a real well of knowledge (for her age) and her job means a lot to her, if it is not the main part of her life. She defines herself with only her job sometimes.

Soon enough, we had yet another newcomer to the party, a person I heard a lot from her, after an idea of Sarah: Clémence Fucolle, Juliette's best friend, who know her since they were in 8th Grade. Caroline agreed and explained us that Clémence knew more things about her best friend than herself about her little sister.  
Juliette spoke often of Clémence to me, but she never let me came with her when she was visiting her, even if it was sometimes far from my place. Luckily, she always came back fine with what she went to get, so this girl was well-spirited. And, now that I finally know who she is, yes, she is an amazing being.  
Clémence also brought with her a person that knew Juliette: Corinne Rosace, their friend from high school with who both of them kept contact. And, if Clémence is such a tomboy, Corinne is her total opposite: she's the most feminine girl I ever met. Though, it was only at first sight, because she is far from reckless. No wonder why the two girls are her friends, none of them would have born a fanny.

After we planned all that was general stuff, date and place, only one thing remained: food. I have to say, I'm far, but very far, from being a great cook. Clémence not being able to make a lot because of how perfectionist she is and Corinne being more a cake decorator than a cook, only Caroline and Sarah left. The problem was that it's Caroline's husband that cooks at home and that Sarah isn't very talented with a spatula.  
Eventually, it's the sister that found the solution: the Jonquille mother, Daphné. I knew that she was feeling guilty for letting her youngest daughter "grow too fast", and Caroline knew she would be ready to do a lot if it could take her daughter from her job at least for a few hours, which is already an exploit in itself. I managed to do so years ago, but she was much younger and rather easy to influence, much less than the average though.

Mrs. Jonquille seemed to know everybody except for Sarah and I. It didn't surprise me that she knew Clémence and Corinne who are Juliette's best friends since her middle school years. As to Caroline, it's pretty obvious.  
She got closer and looked at me with tender eyes before thanking me. I didn't understand why she was thanking me and for what since it was the first time we were meeting each other. Seeing my confused face, she added "thank you for taking care of Juliette during all these years without her having to pay anything".  
I don't know if Juliette told her about me when got to see her again. Apparently, yes, but how did her mother knew it was me? Maybe because I was the only dude in the room, but I felt something in the way she was looking at me... No, she knew it was me because she managed to identify the feelings I had for her daughter. It explains her following sentence:  
"You would have been a better father for her than her own..."

I understood that she was deducting with feelings when she went to Sarah who had just discovered who was her mother-in-law (really, Juliette, you decided to let your girlfriend discover everything by herself?). Daphné got close to her and gave her a different look than she was giving to the sister, the best friends and the substitute paternal figure. Caroline then whispered: "she looks at Paul and Charles that way, she understands so fast".  
"You know, I don't know your name but I know you're the person that Juliette loves. She has a strange way to express her feelings and to affirm their strength, you should know that by now. She gave you a great part of her heart, be careful with it, because it is quite fragile... Well, she must be happy with you, I sense that your link is quite strong".

Sarah was completely speechless. She didn't even know this woman's name and now that woman knew that she was her youngest daughter's girlfriend without having seen her at all before! All she had been capable to respond was her name and surname. Caroline wasn't surprised in the slightest, she was even softly laughing because of her sister-in-law's face.  
Mrs. Jonquille is a pretty good cook. And, when I say "pretty good cook", I mean that I think I once again gave the middle finger to my will to limit myself when I ear. Clémence insisted for the meal to be healthy though. She's daughter to a doctor so she has a doctor's mind. Corinne also made the same request so she didn't wouldn't put on too much weight. Classical girl thoughts. When I think about it, Juliette isn't like that.

To be honest, it was a very good birthday At the beginning, we first thought my joke about the Berlin wall would be nasty, but it made Juliette laugh, she must know since then that she's born the same day as the wall fell. Clémence also allowed herself to make some daring jokes, especially on homosexuality.

Juliette's age wasn't even mentioned once during the evening. I'm pretty sure it was because everybody knew that she still isn't comfortable with it. Well, all except Sarah, because she sadly doesn't have any idea of what is going on. Corinne was indeed trying to bring it on the table, but her friend was explicitly changing the subject so she wouldn't have to answer to that.  
Caroline didn't tell me only good things about her younger sister's younger years. Between the fact that she an early girl, that her father didn't want her and all the violence she suffered mentally and physically, she wasn't able to assimilate some concepts.

Juliette is a very clever girl who knows a lot of things. Her problem is that, for most of those things, she only know them in theory. She knows how to describe a sickness, but if someone is indeed ill, she wouldn't be able to tell which sickness at first look if she wasn't introduced to it beforehand.  
This association flaw causes her to be someone with who it is impossible to speak about some matters just because she isn't able to associate something she knows to some situation. Some years ago, when she broke her left wrist, she would have been able to describe to you all the human arm's bones and the different fracture types, however, she had been unable to deduce that she had herself her wrist broken in some way.

Sat at the table, my nose started to bleed while I was speaking. Not able to find a clean tissue on the table, I got up to get some. To do so, I had to pass in front of her while she was staring at me. Corinne and Clémence then looked at each other, their face expressing some kind of fear.  
My former “protégée’s” dark brown eyes grew wide. A hand put herself in front of them, hiding their view while I was fleeing away from the scene. Sarah, who was right at her side, noticed that her girlfriend was sweating and was much paler than usual.

Not quite understanding what was going on, my French workmate turned to the best friends who knew why such a reaction. Clémence then explained that Juliette was hematophobic, which literally means she's afraid of blood. It's what Sarah probably deduced, according to the face she made right after.  
It's true that she shouldn't have saw her lover having her phobia acting out because she saw three drips of blood dripping from a nose. Fortunately, Juliette didn't faint like she usually do. I think she's born that way, poor girl. It's probably not easy to deal with every day, especially since she's not very handy, she must cut herself easily.

"Sa... Sarah, I'm sorry for that... It's that..." she muttered.  
"Tcch, you're allowed to have phobias you know, we all have fears like that. If you wanna feel better, tell yourself that I'm arachnophobic, a fear even less justified than yours" interrupted her addressee.

Juliette shyly smiled, slightly blushing. Well, I was watching from the kitchen with my tissue on the nose, but I have to admit those two managed to move me when I'm really not a romantic guy, I'm even the opposite. It seemed weird at the beginning that she hated her father, but if he really repudiated her just for being a lesbian, then this dude clearly has a problem in his head and in his mind.  
I was seeing Corinne discreetly taking photos since the beginning of the evening. I imagine that she want to use them to make a souvenir album of some sort. I also think that she had to picture my beautiful nosebleed and when Caroline made her glass of wine fell, making her sister jump.

“Hey, Luc, you come here or no? Ya're takin' forevah in that kitchen!” Clémence called me out.  
"Ah, yeah! Let me take something beforehand” I responded.  
I had hidden a box covered in gift paper. I know very well that she didn't reach a round age, but since I didn't give her something special for her twenty-fifth birthday, I decided to do so this one.

When I got back, I gave the box to its addressee. The latter, surprised, looked at me with her eyes wide open with astonishment, opened what she had in her hands. She found inside of it her old diaries she forgot to take with her when she left my house for the last time. I saw her eyes starting to water when looking at them.  
Those diaries, I kept them for years without reading them. Well, that's not really true since I had read a bit of them to know what they were about. I still remember very clearly, I was cleaning the day after she left when I found them in the bedroom I had arranged for her, hidden under the bed. What disturbs me about them, it's the very last entry of the last diary...

“Dear diary,  
Today, I take on my last oral trial for the CAPES. If my writing is shaky, that's normal, I'm stressed out like I've never been before. I feel like I'm dying tho... I must have overworked myself once again, haha. Well, overwork will be over soon... "Teacher, such a lazy job", it's the impression I got during my training period.  
Anyway. My vision is a bit blurry and my head is aching, but whatever, when I will focus it will vanish. Like it always did. Like it will always do. But... This time, it hurts. It hurts so much. Usually, it's limited to my head but... My whole body is painful, sore and my eyes are closing by themselves. I feel like I'm slowly dying. I now understand that I risk to not make out alive of this exam I prepare since five years ago.  
Maybe be I'm indeed too young for this kind of bullshit...  
-J. Jonquille”

The last page of the diary had been torn, probably to be used as a draft paper, but the back of diary itself was sinister. On the hard cover was written a message for me...

“Luc,  
If you ever find my diaries, don't read them pls. Knowing myself, I will most likely forget them. If we meet again someday, I think so, give them back to me only when you will be sure that I'm mature enough to read them once again. I will always be tempted to read them even tho what I wrote in them is... Sensible stuff.  
I always wanted to thank you for what you did for me. Without you, I would have probably died, already five years ago, from starvation, thirst and despair in Lille's streets. But you never accepted any payment from me. I have no idea how to thank you, especially because I'm currently busy with my exam, but... Know I owe you so much I will never manage to repay all of my debt to you.  
I hope we will see in better conditions...  
Juliette.”

“Hey, you're ok? You seem out of your mind...” Sarah got me out of my thoughts.  
I shook my head and went to sit back while faking that I never thought about anything. Her girlfriend was moved by seeing all those writings who vanished from her life during so many years. When she noticed my state, she looked right into my eyes. She smiled.  
“Luc, I completely forgot about them... Thank you!” She happily told me.

I still wonder why she was so happy to meet with them again. I mean, she hates her past and to be reminded of it... The worst is that Sarah, who wants to know more about it, has in front of her the absolute way to do so: those diaries cover Juliette's middle school years to the end of college. She has in front of her eyes almost all of her girlfriend's life.  
She only need to guess where they had been hidden since then, but I supposed she hid them in various places since she told me she was doing so at home when she still living at her parents' house.

I still wonder if Sarah's research will not make her find out about things I don't even know myself though, and I already know some atrocious things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation note:  
> -CAPES = competitive exam for teachers. In the case of the History-Geography ones, it is composed of 2 written trials ("admissibilty") and 2 oral ones ("admission"). Quite a hard exam in fact, since only 10-20% of candidates actually pass it (14% for 2011's one that I use as a reference)


	5. Justine's PoV - November is Discovery Month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, we're back with Justine as the narrator, because why not?  
> In this chapter, we discover things... We already know.  
> Yeah.

I'm seventeen years old since yesterday. My friends make fun of me because they will soon turn eighteen. Some people of my class still manage to think that I'm one year early with all this bullshit. Luckily that it's not the case, I wouldn't have known some amazing persons such as my friends...

My friends made me a big surprise. Such a surprise that Clémence told me she never saw me make such a face. Well, I wasn't prepared for it at all! Usually, my birthday is very discreet and people tend to forget about it if they don't connect to Facebook.  
I think that we will speak about it for months and even for years only for the video Alexandre made without me knowing so.

This year, my birthday was a Wednesday. And, like each Wednesday, I was having two hours of History-Geography. So, like each Wednesday, I was waiting for 10AM lesson to go to the 204 classroom to have my favorite lesson of the week with my favorite teacher. Yes, you know, Mrs. Jonquille.  
Like the two previous years, she was there on my birthday date. I was ready for, once again, not daring to talk to her about it (last year, I didn't even go to talk with her, but I went the Thursday of the same week...). I was certain that she cared as much about it that she cared about her first sock. After all, I'm only a student.

The lesson was normal as it could have been: speech of two hours long, with details and technical wording, the teacher's usual style. To make it short, everything was going perfectly fine during the best lesson of all. Obviously, I was feeling so well in it to the point of not going out of the room at 11AM break because, even if my wrist was crying, I had a smile on my lips.  
Clémence and Alexandre got further from with the teacher during the break. I was checking my cellphone, so I didn't hear what they were talking about or paid a lot of attention to what was happening around me.

The bell rang the beginning of 11AM lessons and the teacher called back the class to resume her speech. Everybody got back while rambling a bit. As to Alexandre and Clémence, they were smiling at each other with an amused look in their eyes. I had no idea about why, but I was thinking one of them made a good joke and that they were still laughing about it. I told myself that they may would explain it to me at the end of the lesson, so I preferred to focus on the pieces of information said by the teacher than on their little joke who apparently seemed funny (and maybe implying something dirty).  
I eventually completely forgot about the look of my comrades because the two went to their copybooks to write down the lesson. And that I had something else to think about than some bullshit between friends.

At the end of class, Clémence and Alexandre asked me to stay for a few moments. As a good and curious friend, I stayed while the class was living. In any way, since I have for habit to stay after class to speak with the teacher, I would have stayed. I was doubtful though, since there didn't seem to be a reason for why they would insist for me to stay after a History-Geography lesson.  
They then got me in front of desk, in my place. It's at this moment I told myself that something was clearly wrong with their behavior: why would they do this? I didn't understand, I didn't understand anymore.

Mrs. Jonquille then gave me a sheet of paper. This sheet, it was a drawing, rather ugly to be honest, done by my two classmates and our teacher. As a hobbyist drawing artist, it would make me cringe usually, but as a birthday gift... It's the first one that I got since a long time that have only a sentimental value, but this value is enormous. It still is featured in my bedroom.  
I didn't what to say because of how surprised I was. It's incredible that my two friends went to talk to my favorite teacher and idol for my birthday and cooperated to give me something. Giving me all the money of the world, without a doubt, wouldn't have made me so ecstatic.

I wasn't expecting at all that the teacher would give a damn about my birthday. I mean, I'm just a student, I'm pretty sure she would say it very well herself. She didn't personally celebrated the birthday of other people of the class.  
Clémence explained to me that it was because I hold a special place in Mrs. Jonquille's esteem, but that the latter would explain me at the end of the school year. You bet, telling me such a thing in November makes my brain do a barrel roll, even without details.

Recently, I discovered the joys of the Philo lessons. When I say "joys", it goes from "yeah it's pretty interesting" to "I'm so bored God". So, I doodle on a sheet during half of my classes without Mr. Barok noticing that I'm not giving the attention to his speech as I should. I think that nothing will change me, the girl who wants to draw in every class except History-Geo. Even in Economics and Sociology I managed to. It almost makes me regret Mr. Leeht's French classes.

Mrs. Leeht came back to Rimbaud recently. I don't really know her, but I once had her as a teacher in the resource center, she seems to be a nice woman. Moreover, Clémence's best friend, Gab', had her in 10th Grade and she seemed pretty rad. Well, I will never have her as a teacher since I'm in 12th Grade. It's sad she isn't a Latin teacher, I would have got an excuse to speak to her. I like to ship her with Mrs. Jonquille secretly, it's my guilty pleasure.

The latter was telling us sometimes during the breaks of Mrs. Leeht's substitute, that she was describing as "an awful douchebag that money keeps far from moral problems". Since we all knew the polite and slightly hiding character of her words, we understood right of the bat that this dude was a total pile of thrash. We also knew that thanks to Valère, a friend who is in 10th Grade, who told us that she had only one teacher because the other one's substitute refused to do the Literature-Society lessons.  
He explained me that this guy was refusing to take them because he refused to cooperate with a woman as an equal. What he was saying probably came from Mrs. Jonquille herself who, without a doubt, is a feminist confirmed for gender equality. She shouldn't have born that a guy was considering her as inferior to him and wanted to subordinate her for no reason other than that. But, when Valère's classmates asked why their teacher wasn't there...  
Her workmate refused to answer and changed of topic.

Monday, some guy in the class clumsily talked about Mrs. Leeht without knowing who she was in a History-Geo class when we were speaking about the resource center of the school. Since he wasn't really a fan of her, his speech quickly grew worse. Just then, when I looked at the teacher, I saw on her face a feeling between anger and a will to understand in her dark eyes. I still don't know what this stare was translating to, but I'm pretty sure I didn't want to be looked in that way.  
Mr. Leeht explained me why Mrs. Leeht wasn't there during two months after I asked him about it, because I wanted to know for Valère who wouldn't dare to ask the question to Mrs. Ralousse. He replied that she had complications with her bones after she badly fell. He didn't really want to detail, but he told me the whole story, as usual with him. It's then that I learnt something I wouldn't give a damn either wise if it wasn't explaining something: Mrs. Leeht has a girlfriend and not a "BF" like Clémence affirmed me towards the end of our 11th Grade year.

I was speaking about it with Clémence and Alexandre during lunch time yesterday. The first one wasn't believing the news, but she knew it was Beber the Teddy Bear quality news, so she couldn't not believe them. As to him, he made us notice that the Latin teacher seemed to know a lot about a teacher who only arrived the previous year. Moreover, the only teachers such as Mrs. Merouli or Mr. Walrok didn't know anything about what happened to her, we knew that because Valère and his comrades asked them after their Literature-Society refused to tell them.  
However, we had forgotten a lead: Mr. and Mrs. Leeht, despite the fact their surname have the same spelling, they don't have share the same pronunciation. We thought for a long time that they weren't from the same family, until I thought of a discussion earlier in the week in which Mr. Leeht mentioned his "niece" with a story very looking like to the one he told me... So looking-alike that his niece is also called Sarah...

We concluded that Mrs. Leeht was Mr. Leeht's niece. All for that, you must be wondering. Sadly, there was something else: why did Mrs. Jonquille refused to reveal that to her Literature-Society students? This question hurt our heads during a long time, Clémence's, Alexandre's and mine. Especially mine, in fact, but Valère shared my wonder and my will to know more about this whole story.  
Clémence emitted the hypothesis that Mrs. Leeht didn't want that people like us knew about what happened to her and prevented her uncle and her workmate to explain, which would explain why Mrs. Jonquille refused to tell about that and that Mr. Leeht tried to limit himself in his story (which he didn't manage to). The hypothesis was corresponding to the two characters, rightfully known for not saying anything which she doesn't consider as appropriate for her students and telling way too much out of topic when he speaks about something.

When I told Mrs. Jonquille that her Literature-Society colleague was back, she said to me that she knew about that and that it was convenient for her. Up to there, it's understandable, since her substitute was a total douche. However, she also said that it would tire her less. I first took that as "it would tire her less because she will not have to do the work of two teachers for Literature-Society classes", but I then thought that Mrs. Leeht had the time to prepare those when she was in vacation or, if she had her arm broken, at least helped her workmate on the track, if we consider that Mr. Leeht is Mistress's uncle and that he accepted to serve as a messenger between the two women.  
It's at this moment that I recalled that she had a girlfriend. But it seemed impossible to me. It was until I remembered that traumatizing scene from last year. I have no idea how I could have forgot about it until then, but I think that my brain refused to see again this vision who haunted me since then.

It seemed obvious now. I was thinking it was a bad nightmare because of how it seemed beyond reality, and I never told anyone about it except for Thomas who never mentioned it after wise. But I saw those two folks kiss each other last year. They could have broken up, it could have just been a bet in the teachers' room.  
It wasn't a bad dream, it never had. It explains so much things. It explains why Mrs. Jonquille knew about what happened. It explains how she stared at Gaétan when he spoke in a not-so-positive way of the teacher in the resource center. It's obvious now.

Mrs. Leeht and Mrs. Jonquille are a couple.


	6. Sarah's PoV - Affection & Nauseas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your French kisses are the worst". I need to put that in either my English or Philosophy trials for my exam.  
> Back with Sarah, our Literature Lady!  
> In this chapter, foreshadowing (a lot of it), very obvious foreshadowing, symbols, and maybe some cool things between those.  
> Also, I had to change characters because of some shitty person I will call Medival Homophobic. But that's not important, I was forcing myself to include them. As usual, translation notes at the end of the chapter.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless!

I'm not feeling well currently. I have nauseas on a regular basis that make me vomit sometimes and I don't know why I get them. And it started some time ago already. I hope it will not spoil my Christmas holidays, the only thing that could be worse would be that my sweetie worries about me even more than usual.  
Some workmates noticed I wasn't at the best of me. I could have born it if I knew where it comes from, but no, I have no idea about where it does... I didn't catch any gastro' recently, that's for sure, but where does it come from then? I need to go to the doctor, we shall see...

Pauline spoke with me about that the other day, noticing I was even more nauseous than usual. She gave me iodine medicine with a cup of coffee. I asked her how she happened to have those in her bag, intrigued, since it's not the kind of medicine you have on a regular basis in your handbag. She replied that it was because she also had nauseas because of her pregnancy. She softly laughed when seeing my astonishment and told me her nauseas were ending because she was at the end of her first trimester.  
It reminds me that I wanted to buy a Motilium bottle, but I ended buying iodine pills me too. The latter don't taste anything, which is not the case of this barely drinkable liquid. Anyway, I would have threw it up before it really acted out, unlike those pills.

Uncle is worried for me because of my nauseas. I never really had a father because I've always been in conflict with my parents. Uncle Bernard has been a real paternal figure instead of the one who conceived me. However, I was rarely seeing him because I lived my whole childhood in Brussels, where I was born.  
When my parents divorced and that I went to live with my father, we moved out to Calais, where my paternal grand-parents had a secondary residence they gave to their older son. I lived my teenage years in this city next to the shore, near the fishing port.

During my 12th Grade year, near the Bac, I got the appendicitis and my father had to hospitalize me. Unlike what I first thought before being transferred there, it has been the best time of my teenage years, because I had no complications with my appendicitis.  
I was finally far from my family and their values opposite to mine because none of my parents were visiting me often. I was friend with the minors' section of the hospital's kids because I was still considered as non-adult because I was a high school student.

Then, I met this girl. She was another 12th Grade student from the same school as me. She had long chestnut hair whose owner's face I couldn't remember. I would just remember her voice and her exhausted body, but I just couldn't give her a name. I just knew she was younger, much younger than me...  
I was in love with this girl. She was adorable and very pretty, even if she was recovering from overworking a whole month while she wasn't an adult yet. I saw this girl again, not long ago. She changed physically, but she's still so pretty. Her personality has grown up since then, but she is still as much hardworking and good-willed. This girl, I finally know what her name is.  
This girl is named Juliette Jonquille.

Recently, she showed herself as being more in love with me than ever... I don't know if it's linked to my mysterious nauseas, but I'm not going to complain about that. Obviously, she then spends the same amount of time she spent in hugs and kisses in work. She still works as much, but now, she wants me to know she loves me and refuses to lose me for a reason or another.  
With my ex-boyfriends, it wouldn't have disturb me. However, we're speaking about Juliette here. This girl is an individualist one who is only a little bit social outside of her teacher duties. It even worries me to see her giving me so much importance, especially since it tires her even more to play the role of love-sicken girlfriend and the one of workaholic teacher at the same time.

Curious, I decided to ask Caroline if she could come at our place to speak with her about that. I confined her my worries about the sudden manifestations of love from my girlfriend who never had the habit to show that much affection. I saw my sister-in-law looking down to her cup of tea I poured her. She told me in a less-than-reassuring voice:  
"Juliette has never been like that..."

To unconsciously reassure myself, I told myself that it was because she has never been in any family-loving way of being. I so decided to ask Clémence about this too, only to get the same result: Juliette isn't an affective girl, physically and verbally. I was having the impression than my girlfriend had been stolen from me to replace her with her hidden twin sister or with a defective forgery.  
I then told myself she had to do something wrong and that she wanted to be forgiven for it. The thing is, for what she would want to be forgiven. To know such a thing, I did something very simple yet very effective: I asked her after work.

"Hey, I find it weird that you're so affective all of a sudden, is something wrong?" I asked her with a calm voice.  
This question was exactly the one I was wondering about for a good week. I had no idea about what she could have done. I was thinking of cheating on me but her personality reminded me that she was almost sex-repulsed. I also thought about having broken one of my favorite jewels or having lost one of my earrings, but she never gets close to the box.

"Err.. It's that... Sometimes, I hear you reproach me to spend my time in my papers so... I try to make you understand I love you..." She mumbled blushing, her eyes looking at her right, as if she was shameful of saying out loud her feelings.  
I have to admit I laughed to her reply. I had already been in a relationship before, my exes didn't give a damn about what I was thinking about what they were doing. But, once I'm in dating such an asocial girl, she tries to apologize for how she is! Honestly, I'm really happy for not having wanted to "convert" to heterosexuality, I would have never date such a nugget of kindness.

"Oh, Juliette, I know you're not the kind to do much fluff, it's not natural from you! I prefer when you're yourself, you're just not romantic! By the way, your French kisses are the worst" I explained in all honesty.  
She first grew her eyes wide, surprised, before softly laughing, probably making fun of herself. Amused and almost moved, I kissed her on the nose and a little tap on her head before getting back with a peaceful mind on my French classes.

But, obviously, my stomach then turned around, my nauseas coming once again annoy me. However, I was seeing going upstairs. Since she would find sketchy to not find me at my desk because I told her I was going to work, I just went to the toilet while hiding as much as I could my urge to vomit, just so she would be believe I was just doing my business or something.  
Apparently, either she really believed it, either she was too busy thinking about working on her papers. Or both. Anyway, she didn't notice I was nauseous without knowing why.

Doubtful, Raphaëlle wanted that, during the evening for the end of the year, I wouldn't drink any glass of champagne. I wanted to tell her that Juliette would be the one who would drive anyway because, for once, we started our work day at the same time, but she interrupted me before I could say it whole: she put a finger on my lips and then pointed with her finger the crescent-shaped trinket I always have on the neck.  
"Sarah, you're saying you have nauseas without being sick for a good month now. Your necklace is made out of rose quartz and has the shape of the Crescent, the symbol of fertility linked to the goddess Tsuki. I don't want to risk an embryo's life with alcohol"

Understanding she was thinking I was pregnant (which is biologically completely impossible), I panicked. It's true that the Crescent has this value, but the tale of Tsuki, the goddess of the Moon and of Fertility, is not true in any case. It's only legends, this necklace is probably a real one who has been mistaken with a version for tourist that my girlfriend bought me as a gift. It gives it a greater value, that's all.  
Raphaëlle clearly saw I was hardly believing it, sceptic as I am. She taped my shoulder and advised me to go to the doctor for my nauseas anyway, because we never know. Even if it wasn't was she was thinking, I would at least know why these nauseas are. Because that would already be pretty good, I followed her advice. Juliette would have brought me there anyway.

The people in the waiting room are pretty different from each other. There's a grandma who holds herself with her cane who is most likely there for a health checkup. At my left, a woman is asking her bratty son to calm down because he is noisy. Son who tried to seduce me for some reason, maybe children are naturally attracted to persons working in the education? I don't know and, to be honest, I don't really give a damn, what is currently worrying me is my stomach.  
Juliette wanted to come along. Since I hate going to the doctor, moreover if I'm alone to do so, I would have gladly accepted, but I'm sure she would have either corrected her papers in a corner of the room while waiting for my call, either she would have searched to reassure me and would then work on her papers after. And I don't want this.

I feel someone taping softly on my right shoulder. I turn back to see who is asking for me. My neighbor is a man with black hair and chestnut-colored eyes, whose scent is smelling like chocolate. I know this man: he is Julian Feilein, a PE workmate.  
Apparently, I would say by his odor that he didn't put on his usual deodorant on. Surprised to see him in this waiting room, I first say hello to him. He doesn't seem really surprised to see me here though, maybe the surprise faded away since he noticed me before I did.

"Why are you here? You weren't at Rimbaud today, you're sick?" I ask him, curious.  
My workmate smiles at me before chuckling. He explains me that he doesn't work on Thursdays. We're in December and I still haven't notice. To be honest, I don't work on Monday afternoons and Juliette systematically works on the all five days of the week, so I ended up assimilating everybody was working every day...

"Pauline pushed me to go to the doctor because she wants to be sure about my allergy to soya! I told her it would be enough to not eat soya, but no, she insisted that I go to the doctor!" He tells me with some chuckles in his voice.  
"It's not surprising, knowing your wife! Me, it's for my nauseas without any clear origin, it's Raphaëlle who insisted that I go see one..." I answer, since I see he's curious. 

He is then called in the doctor's office, he waves at me and goes. Back to solitude in this far from full waiting room. The feminine press magazines on the table are far from interesting, I don't care about late fashion or stars' life. The other magazines are about sports, a subject who is as interesting as chicks posing for brands of high-priced clothes.  
Well, I'm going to answer to some texts people sent me to my mobile phone while I wait, I didn't really have the time to read them between work and the fact I had to go to the doctor. And also nauseas.

The mother with her damn son is then called, then the granny. The time isn't passing quickly in this room and I surprise myself for looking at my watch desperate to see the time slow like that. The clock emits frustrating tic-tac noises to say the least and causing me to want to smash it against the floor actually.  
Ah, I'm called in the doctor's office. Well, I only can hope that my problem isn't too much...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation/Other notes:  
> -Motilium is a liquid medicine who's goal is to prevent vomitting (but it rarely works and tastes awful). If Sarah says "it wouldn't even work", it's because you can vomit the liquid, causing it to have no effect.  
> -"exes" comes from the French "ex" who is short for ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/nbinaryfriend  
> -for those who don't know, iodine pills are given to pregnant women to ease their nauseas, thus why Pauline has some in her bags and why she purposes some to Sarah. I'm not sure if it's recomended with coffee though, I'm not expert in the matter. At least, it's not bubblegum-flavored liquid like in some shitty fanfic I know about.


	7. Juliette's PoV - Suit and Tennis Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here we go for another Crossed Looks chapter!  
> Sorry if this one took a whole month, I had my head somewhere else! School, VeEverse, all this stuff, y'know...
> 
> Here we discover that Juliette isn't as strong physically as you would think... She's actually pretty weak.  
> I also really should feature Florence and Meriem a lot more, they're such incredible women!

I'm reckless today. My classes are (for once) to stroll through my mind today. I don't pay much attention to my surroundings, nor what I look like. To be honest, knowing if I got my makeup right this morning is the last of the things I have to think about.  
I'm wondering if growing up is actually that, deep inside. It is those moments when you doubt and when you realize you have duties you weren't even conscious of before falling one day on our heads to fill up? I'm so lost...

Yesterday, Sarah told me she was pregnant. I have no idea if I reacted as such because I was scared she had cheated on me because of how absent I am or if it was because I would have to play a role I would have never wanted to: being a mother.  
I hate the family spirit I was raised in. I didn't dare to say to Sarah that I wouldn't assume my role like I should once this child would be born, she seemed so... Happy? She had tears in her eyes but was smiling, she must have been so happy...

The workmates noticed very well that I was in a complete other state of mind today, maybe because I just realized I'm not even wearing heeled shoes to go to work. Well, I actually realized it only when I've been told that I was smaller than usual. So I'm hanging around wearing a white suit and black tennis shoes since 6:30 AM. I didn't even know I had those shoes anymore, they date back from when Luc was sometime inviting me to play basketball with his team.  
I feel my students mocking me. Well, can't blame them for doing so, I already got an outfit of a questionable quality, the state of my makeup and my hair must be fantastic. By "fantastic", I mean of such a quality that even a clown would be more accurately-dressed than I am today. It will a hard, hard day...

I'm starting to understand why Clém' told me that going 150% was crazy. I feel so weak. Earlier today, Lina from the TS3 class asked me if she could borrow my chair because there was one missing in the 208 classroom. I obviously told her yes, but when I took the chair up, I almost lost control of my arms. Luckily, more fear than damage.  
I really felt on the verge of passing out. What is happening to me? It's not in my habits to flag at such a quick speed and that easily! I may be too old for my high school mistakes after all.

At the noon break, Florence asked me if I would have lunch with Meriem and her. I accepted, not wanting to totally cut myself from the rest of the world to add to my weaker-than-usual state. I'm waiting for them in front of the 211 room, watching students walking in the corridors. Clémence and Justine from the TES1 class walk in front of me and say me hello between two laughs from the taller of the two.  
It reminds me that I personally wished Justine a happy birthday... I have no idea if I'm even allowed to do so, or if it is allowed by the rules, but for once, I don't care.

Clém' made me understand that, sometimes, it's good to deny the rule texts and to think about the human side of what I'm doing. I've always been told to stay distant to the students in class, but when Luc brought me for my "training period" in Scotland, I understand I was told shit all this time. The lecturers don't know what it is to find yourself in front of pregnant middle school girls and people such as this dear Justine...  
Ah, here they are, it's time to get out of my thoughts.

Florence waves her hand and double-cheek kisses me, same goes for Meriem. My History workmate is telling us about the life at her place, of her son in college and her daughter who just entered it. However, I'm not really listening to her, I have my mind completely somewhere else, filled up with Sarah and "our" child. Florence's speech is sadly going way over my head.

"Juliette, is something wrong?" Meriem asks me, explicitly worried about my quietness, especially since I'm the kind to comment workmates stories.  
"No, not at all... Well, yes, there's indeed something, but it's so ridiculous..." I answer while looking at my foot.  
They both look at me with some worry on their face.

We arrive to the dining hall and have priority. Luckily, we're from the 12:00AM wave, so students are much busier speaking to their friends than looking at teachers go to have lunch. However, I wanted to be happy that the 12th Graders would have their Latin class, but Bernard is missing today... Well, I suppose Justine must be busy speaking to her comrades somewhere else then.  
I forget to take a board before my Economics workmate reminds me to take one. I'm not hungry, but I force myself to eat just to prevent fainting from hypoglycemia. I forget to take a glass, it's Florence that has to take one for me. I'm such an incompetent today.

They decide to install on a table isolated from the others, I supposed to be talk about my problems without any other ear to hear about them. I'm lucky Sarah was eating at the 11:00 AM wave, because if she did eat at 12:00 their plan wouldn't have worked: this one knows how to detect her girlfriend three kilometers around.  
We sit. I wave my fork in my cucumber slices, not motivated to swallow them or to force myself to do so. Noticing my strange behavior, Florence puts her eyes on me and stops eating her carrots, Meriem does the same.

"Juliette, what’s wrong? You really don't seem to be fine since this morning" My History workmate asks me.  
"You look pale, are sure you will be able to make your classes this afternoon?" Meriem questions me, focused on another aspect of my current state.

I really feel awful all of a sudden. Barely preventing my heavy head from falling in my fish-and-rice plate, I'm on the verge of fainting. My eyes must be completely empty right now, I'm completely burnt out. I shouldn’t have taken that percentage, but what is done is done...  
"I... I didn't sleep well last night..." I reply.

"Something concerns you, it's clear. Could you tell us what it is?" Meriem asks calmly, her dark brown eyes hidden behind her glasses inserted into mine.  
I nod and swallow. It's time for me to let my feelings go for a bit, it will make me better. I look at my workmates in the eyes.

"I know you can't really relate to me for that, but... Sarah told me yesterday she was pregnant, that she didn't know where it came from and that I knew she would never cheat on me... But I don't want to become a parent, you see..." I mutter before burying my head in my hands.

A long moment of silence then issues. I hear myself crying like a lost child and everybody in the room turn to see me, I feel their looks. I have no idea how they look at me, I'm way too busy hiding my awful tears. I will have to redo my makeup, it must have dripped with all these bloody feelings...   
I feel Raphaëlle coming behind me and gently tapping my shoulder as a sign of support. I rise my head and turn to her. She has her long red hair tied up in a bun and smiles softly at me with some compassion on her face.

"You know, Sarah is as lost as you in this case. She's happy of the news, of course, but she sure thinks you wouldn't take it as easily as her... You should reveal yourself a bit more, there's no shame to not trust in yourself" she explains to me with her wise voice.  
She then hands me a tissue, probably for me to dry up my tears.

I don't know where we would be without Raphaëlle. She's a wise woman who's covered with mystery. She knows a lot about the symbols and always know what to say. The thing is, she's the same age as Sarah who is her best friend. It's crazy that she is so clever when she's still pretty young...  
Florence taps my right hand and looks at me with her blue eyes filled with tenderness. Clearly, she behaves a bit like a second mother with me since her three children left from her house. I guess she needs to feel like a guiding light to someone.

Mentally, I feel much better. I'm once again focused on my classes, well as much as I can with this other problem I didn't get rid of: my physical weakness. I really need to sleep more but it seems fairly impossible in the beginning of a school period like this one.  
Moreover, Luc has invited me once again to accompany the annual trip of the Euro Section. I wanted to turn the offer down to stay with Sarah, but she insisted for me to go there, convincing me that she wouldn't be pregnant enough to need help while I would be in England.

I apprehend this trip. Two years ago, during my first year working at Rimbaud, I accompanied the Scotland one. This time, I knew no student whatsoever participating to it which caused me to be a more-than-transparent staff member. However, walking kilometers in one week when I didn't get any sleep during the going exhausted me much more than I first thought.  
Since I'm already very weak at the moment, I'm really scared for the trip next month. The first History-Geography Bac-like exam is in two weeks, and since I have two 12th Grade classes, I will have that amount of tests to correct. Knowing I'm paying much more attention to my correction since Nathalie scolded me for not writing enough notes for the students to understand their mistakes, I spend even more time on them.

When I told Clém' that I was taking part of another Euro Section trip, she asked me to take an appointment with her father before assuring my presence in England. I declined the offer, since I barely have the time to take care of my girlfriend, I don't have time to take care of myself too moreover.   
Since then, Clém' is calling me every day to know how I go. Daughter and sister of doctors, she knows how to detect my health state through my lies. I feel her worry more and more about me, it reminds 12th Grade...

Today, since I'm much flagged, I preferred coming back from work on foot to prevent any accident. I came with Sarah who finishes at 5:00 PM anyway, so she will take the car. I sometimes come back home on foot when I'm the one who finishes work early to think about something else than work.  
This time, I went to the park. The weather is pretty good for a January day, but it's so cold... It may just be me and my current weakened state though. Sat on a bench, I realize it's time to go back home.

I come around a woman around her fifties with short dark brown hair. She notices me and asks me if I'm ok while I'm almost staggering towards her. The woman catches me in my fall and make me sit on another bench in the park. Her wrickled face expresses a lot her feelings and so her worries.  
"Mrs. Jonquille, are you fine?" She asks me.

How does she know my surname?! I don't remember her... I looked at her dubitative, not understanding much about the current situation with my almost sedative state. I feel her putting me on her shoulder and she asks me where I live. I slap myself, wake up inside and get back on my foot by myself, much to her surprise.  
On the road, she introduces herself as Anne Maucin, History-Geography teacher at the Esplanade Middle School not far from the city's park. I then introduce myself before she tells me she knows me thanks to a meeting in the beginning of 2014 and because I had some of her former students: Christiane Xone, Raphaëlle Garionne and Justine Lhotar, all former 9th Graders of her and former 2D4 in 2013-2014.

Anne tells me that my outfit is ridiculous. I kindly laugh at the joke while she explains me she doesn't really pay attention to what she wears when she's tired, just like me according to what she sees. I have to say her clothing style is almost as lame as mine...  
We arrive at the front of my house. I wave at her while she invites me to come to the next opened doors of her middle school. I do the same, even if I highly doubt I will go there or that she will come.  
I enter the house. I think I'm going to drink a cup of... No, I'm going to sleep, for once. I need to keep energy at least for the trip to England... Some of my 12th Graders will be there.

I just need to rest so badly...

**Author's Note:**

> Translation notes:  
> -the S, ES and L sections are sections of the Baccalauréat, the exam taken on by students at the end of high school. S is Sciences, ES is Economics and Sociology and L is Literature, to make it shorts (more infos on Wikipedia anyway)  
> -"Pronote" is the most common school program where students can see their schedules and grades. It's on this program teachers also make their student calls and put the grades/marks they gave to their students. The program is really popular among students, believe me, I can't without my little Pronote by my side.  
> -The "TES1" and "TL2" classes are 12th Grade classes, also called "Terminale" in France (after Première and Seconde, but I translated them to 11th and 10th Grades to make it easier)  
> -In France, teachers have 18 hours of class per wekk (if only certified with the CAPES, which is the case of Mrs. Blossart and Mrs. Jonquille) if they work at 100%. They can choose to work less (80%) or more (120%), so have 15 or 20 hours per week instead). The 150% flavor is fictional tho, but PDV isn't enterely real life, you will see that in Chapter 3.


End file.
